


Happy Graduation, Tobio.

by kireiflora



Series: Kageyama's Past [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-06
Updated: 2015-08-06
Packaged: 2018-04-13 05:54:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4510335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kireiflora/pseuds/kireiflora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A look into one of the final days of Tobio's time in middle school.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Graduation, Tobio.

**Author's Note:**

> This post http://reiconcorps.tumblr.com/post/125762752450 has been going around for awhile and I wanted to write something to it, on my birthday.

The day went on as they had been since the tournament. He went to school, went to class, stared out the window as the teachers lectured on the future, which he wasn't even sure he had anymore. He knew it was a stupid thought, this school couldn't ruin his skill, but it had ruined his love of the game. He hoped he'd move past it before he met his new team. Eventually lunch came, his least favorite time of day even before...the incident. But it had become worse after it.

He was sitting under the stairwell again. There were a few other spots he could go to but he ended up here most of the time. He didn't really fit under it anymore, but people wouldn't look for him there and he'd be left alone.

Not that he really wanted to be alone.

But the only people he counted as some form of friend had abandoned him. He wasn't stupid, he knew they weren't close friends but he had thought they had at least liked him. But they hadn't; which was why he was sitting, cramped, under the stairwell. Everything had fallen apart so fast, he didn't mean to snap at that time, he'd regretted it instantly. Despite what anyone thought he _was_ trying. But it was too late, they had turned their backs on him, punctuated with the thump of the ball hitting the floor. His fingers dug into the volleyball he was clutching, some distant part of his brain wondering if it was possible to pop it.

He just wanted to play volleyball and win, and fast attacks were hard to defend against! It wasn't his fault none of them had worked hard enough to hit th-he cut his thoughts off with a shake of his head. It was his fault as well, he wasn't good with words but that wasn't an excuse. He couldn't even throw himself into practice to try and bury his feelings of loneliness and try to rekindle his love of the game; he didn't have the courage to try and enter the gym.

Next year, at a new school with a new beginning it would change. He would leave the fast attack here, with this school and this team and this loneliness. He would go to a school nobody from this school would move on to. He was sure his new team would know of him, but...they'd give him a chance, he was sure of it.

But for now....for now he was stuck as far back as he could squeeze himself under the stairs. Not wanting to see the looks his old teammates were giving him. They had stopped being his teammates when they turned their back on him. They had probably hated him for longer than that he was realizing. The level of hate in their glares couldn't have built up so quickly. He had thought they were at least kind of friends, he guessed he was wrong. He took one hand off the volleyball, setting it on the cold ground with a sigh to try and push those thoughts away with the cold. He hadn't been popular, but he hadn't been this alone before; they had at least tolerated his presence enough to spend lunch with them.

His mind drifted to the first match, the shrimp. He had wanted to win too, desperately, he saw it in his eyes. He had a thirst for victory burning bright in his small body. But he didn't stand a chance with that team. Maybe he would battle the shrimp again in high school. He'd probably go to a school with a decent team, and with that the shrimp might yet be a volleyball player. A small smile grew on his face, he was looking forward to the hypothetical match.

He dug his phone out of his bag to check the time. Lunch was nearly over, as was the year. He would be able to go home soon and practice by himself until school started again, throwing himself into it until his arms ached and he couldn't move.

He wrapped his arms around the volleyball again, resting his forehead against the top. "Happy graduation, Tobio." he mumbled.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what graduation day is like in Japan so I set it the day before instead.


End file.
